


Souls of Dust

by Merely_Specters



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Be warned there's a lot of death especially later, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss, More characters to be added but they're spoilers right now, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Self-Sacrifice, Slow Build, Some of the characters I tagged haven't appeared yet, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Whump, but they will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merely_Specters/pseuds/Merely_Specters
Summary: “We don’t trade lives,” but sometimes, there is no avoiding the cost of war, and some of the hardest sacrifices require the strongest wills. Time is never a sure consequence of valiance; often, heroes are only rewarded with dust and blood.When Thanos snaps, Doctor Strange and Peter Parker wake up in a soul realm marred by corruption. After they find that “phantom” infinity stones can be wielded from the soul dimension, the two set out to find the stones and are forced to confront the sacrifices that must be made... no matter the cost to themselves.Whatever it takes.





	1. Field

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this fanfiction when Avengers: Infinity War first came out, so I figured that the opening of Endgame was a good enough reason to post a teaser. I have 27 chapters lined up, most of them already written. As soon as I finish with finals, I will update weekly.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT: I'll be posting weekly on Sundays from now on. I can't wait for you all to see what's in store!

Doctor Stephen Strange knew what was to happen. He had seen the future in which they won; he knew what had to happen. He _knew_ what was going to happen, but that didn’t make the moment any less painful, any less wrong. It was wrong, but it had to be wrong to make the future right.

Even as he began crumbling, he looked forward to victory. He reassured himself. “It was the only way,” he said, holding on to hope even as he could no longer feel his arms, his legs, and that declaration became his truth.

All things considered, the decimation was an altogether too quick process for Strange. One moment, he was there, and the next, all he saw was an endless darkness, an endless abyss, a void tinted by a vignette of emerald.

Then he began seeing the visions.  


The process was much slower for Peter Parker.

Back on Titan, the last thing Peter Parker saw was Tony Stark’s face.

Peter tried to say that he was sorry, he was sorry that he ever came, he was sorry for failing, he was—

He was dust.

He felt himself crumble, break apart at the seams. His legs went first, then came his arms, his chest, his face ( _god_ , his face), he felt it go up and up and there went his eyes. He couldn’t see: he couldn’t hear. There was fire burning in his veins but he couldn’t scream.

Death.

This must be what death feels like.

He thought about it as he spiraled upwards and upwards. He could feel himself moving, but he didn’t have a body anymore, did he? He was… a soul? Bits of dirt?

He didn’t think too hard about it.

Then, suddenly, he felt his legs again, his arms. He could feel the ground beneath him. His face materialized, still wet with tears, but he still couldn’t see.

He gasped as soon as he could, the pain still fresh in his heart, in his mind. Something had changed: something, something happened. He felt himself, still unseeing, and realized he had a solid body again.

“Mr. Stark? You did it!” he shouted out, grinning. He laughed and whooped, and suddenly, he could feel his eyes again. He opened his eyes and—

He wasn’t on Titan. He was in a field.

He deflated.

Was this heaven?

He looked around. It really was just a field. The meadow was picturesque; it was framed with trees, but the trees were so far away. Tall grasses and flowers covered the ground in between, carpeting the dirt. It was all so still.

Too still.

No animals scurried about. No wind moved the plants about.

Nothing made a sound; nothing moved.

Nothing at all.

Peter got up. It almost felt blasphemous to move when everything else was still, but he needed to know where he was. It all felt _wrong_ , too wrong to be heaven.

His breathing hitched, and his breaths quickened. No, it couldn’t be heaven because that would mean he was dead, and Mr. Stark couldn’t have let him die. His throat constricted.

As he made his first move, the grasses snaked around him, caressing his legs. He shuddered and pushed it all away only for it to return seconds later. It felt so wrong, like it was all sentient, all alive, and it was _touching_ him, and he couldn’t escape—

He heard a sound behind him. It was gentle, but in the numbing quiet, it felt like a shout.

He whirled around.

In the distance was a figure, sitting just below the grasses. The man stood up slowly, facing away from Peter.

It was unsettling to see him without the tell-tale collar of a red cloak wrapped around his neck, but Peter recognized him immediately.

Doctor Strange.

“Hey!” Peter began yelling. The plants bent away from him at the noise. He started running towards Strange, frantically grasping at anything familiar.

Peter soon saw that Strange was unusually still. His head lolled on his neck. For a moment, Peter feared he was dead ( _how could Strange be dead if they were already dead?_ ) but then Peter saw his uneven breathing.

“Doctor Strange!” Peter had made it to him. “Doctor Strange, I’m glad you’re here. Where are we?” He stopped suddenly to catch his breath. “Where is everyone? Where is Mr. Stark?”

At the noise, Strange shook his head, massaging his temples. His head hurt, his brain stung, and his eyes _burned_. Flashes of the future crowded his vision, making it hard for him to see, to think, to hear, all he could see was death and death and death and—

“Doctor Strange?”

Strange snapped out of it. His breathing slowed.

For a split second, Strange wondered what he should call Peter. He certainly wasn’t old enough to be referred by a title ( _god, he was so young, why did Stark bring someone that age?_ ), but they weren’t familiar enough for a first-name basis.

“Spider-Man.”

“Yes, sir, but do you know where we are?”

Strange looked around and felt another twinge of discomfort. Magic lurked here, powerful magic.

“We are in the infinity stones.”

Peter frowned.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Strange waved around. “What you see is a pocket dimension inside the stones used to store excess energy… the soul realm. When Thanos snapped his fingers, we were all consumed by the infinity stones. Our souls and material bodies are here as extra energy reserves.”

“...what do you mean by ‘us all?’” Peter bit his lip, already knowing the answer.

“Half of the galaxy is in here. The other half is out there.”

Peter felt sick. It was all his fault, if he had gotten that glove off sooner...

“We’re not dead, then?” Peter probed.

“In the strictest sense, no, we are not dead.”

A wave of relief washed over Peter. “Thank god—” 

“We are as good as dead, though.” 

Peter blanched. 

Strange continued with an indifferent air, “We are consciousnesses, souls with a physical manifestation in this pocket dimension. It's the first law of thermodynamics: energy can't simply be created or destroyed, so the stones store whatever it destroys. All of us are here to provide the infinity stones with energy; when the stones are used, our souls are recycled to give it power. 

“We cannot commune with the outside world unless we find some powerful magical artifact, nor can we leave this place. In that sense, we are as good as dead.” He briefly paused a moment before quietly saying, “It is as I foresaw.” 

He was about to continue, but then he saw Peter’s face. Tears were beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes. 

“But yes. We are technically alive,” Strange said briskly. 

Peter whooped, regretting his outburst as soon as it rang out in the too-silent plain. “We are alive, that’s all we need, we’re alive! We can get back!” 

Strange didn’t say anything, letting Peter have his moment. 

Peter’s smile suddenly stilled. “How do we get back though?” 

Strange wasn’t sure how long they’d been talking; time seemed distorted in this place, this foreign world. It could have been minutes. It could have been years. 

Peter said, “How do we get back.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. His voice shook. 

Strange finally spoke, “We have to wait until somebody uses the soul stone.” 

“How long will that be?” Peter said, his expression slowly dimming. 

“It might be weeks.” It might be years. Strange let that thought remain unspoken. 

“No, no, there has to be another way,” Peter said. “You can look into the future and see how we get out. You said you had a plan. You saw the future. There has to be another way out.” 

“I cannot see the future without the time stone. There is no other way.” 

While Peter was looking at Strange, Strange tapped his hand to the Eye, casting a spell. It wasn’t a complex one; he didn’t even need to put much energy into it (The kid was so drained that he was practically already falling unconscious). Peter suddenly began feeling a little... woozy. Peter began sitting down, suddenly tired. His limbs felt heavy. Strange descended to his level. 

(In the back of his mind, Strange sighed. Spider-Man was a kid, he was just a kid.) 

Strange continued, “I’ve researched the infinity stones for a long time. Only the wielder of all six infinity stones can undo an event like this. Somebody would need to control all six stones, but doing that from this dimension would permanently corrupt them.” 

Strange sat down in front of him. 

“I did see the future earlier, though, remember. We may be able to access the infinity stones from in here, but even if we can’t, the Avengers can. That’s our endgame." 

Peter lifted his head, then nodded. 

He started to speak. “I’m going to sit here for a little while, is that alright, Doctor Strange?” 

Strange nodded. 

Peter fell down to the ground, deep in sleep. 

Strange stood up, looking out to the expanse around him. He quietly stepped over Peter's now sleeping body and began preparing another spell. 

He had failed to mention that the chance of their return was one in millions.


	2. Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange and Peter have a disagreement and discover a new kind of enemy that they must face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is finally up! Thank you to TheBlueCabinet for betaing this chapter.
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who commented on the previous chapter! I really appreciate all your kind words; they keep me motivated :)

Peter’s eyes slowly opened, and Peter emerged from a dreamless sleep. He looked up after a pause, rubbing his eyes. He must have… fallen unconscious? That didn’t feel right.

He looked around and nearly yelped. There, sitting beside him, was Doctor Strange, but Strange wasn’t sitting, exactly. Rather, he appeared to be floating in water, yet he was surrounded by air alone. Strange was cross-legged three feet off of the ground: his eyes were closed. An orange haze that looked like fire supported him, but occasionally a flash of green would creep up Strange’s side, consuming the fiery glow for a split second before retreating.

Strange didn’t even look like he was breathing. _Oh god, if he wasn’t breathing…_

“Doctor Strange?” Peter edged closer. Peter walked all around Strange, forcing himself to control his breathing. There was nothing holding Strange up, yet he was still in the air, sitting as still as everything else in that place.

“Doctor Strange?” he repeated in a whisper, but even a whisper was loud to him in this place.

Doctor Strange’s hovering destabilized at Peter’s words. The lights flickered around him before the hovering stopped completely. He fell, hitting the ground with a _thump._

“Oh my gosh, Doctor Strange, are you alright—”

Strange’s tone was harsh. “Please do _not_ disturb me while I’m concentrating. Power is… different in this place.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the already disheveled locks. It appeared as though he had repeated the action several times prior. “I haven’t been able to draw on most of my power, and without the Cloak of Levitation, I’m vulnerable.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Peter said quickly. He held out a hand to help Strange up, but Strange picked himself up on his own. “...by the way, where's your cape?”

“It’s a cloak. The infinity stones must have counted it as an entity in itself and placed it elsewhere,” Strange said with a somewhat mournful tone. “It would have been helpful to have.”

“What were you doing, anyway?”

“I was trying to find others near us.”

“...but you were right here?”

“My consciousness was on the astral plane. I was…” he fumbled for an appropriate explanation. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” Peter said, his face the picture of seriousness.

“Well... I wasn’t a spirit, but I wasn’t _here._ It was almost as if I were what you would call a ghost.”

In a split second, Peters serious façade dissolved into surprise. “So ghosts do exist?” 

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow! So the conspiracies were right! Does that mean haunted houses are actually haunted? Are they actually dangerous? What about—” Peter began rattling questions, going on and on and on and...

“Yes, yes,” Strange mumbled distractedly. He began walking toward the treeline at the edge of the field.

“What are you doing?”

“I heard something, but I didn’t see anyone. It came from that direction.”

“So you’re going to look for them, or, whatever it was?”

“Exactly.”

Strange took off toward the treeline again. Peter scrambled to keep up.

“Where are you going?”

“I already told you.” 

Peter waited for him to elaborate, but Strange said nothing more.

“Wait for me!” Peter yelled as he lagged increasingly behind. Strange only paused long enough to turn to Peter.

“Look. I don’t know if I have any enemies in this dimension. Half of the universe was brought here: there’s a good chance that everyone who wants to kill me is in this dimension, and I’m heading directly toward the only sign of life. I don’t know what kinds of missions Stark has brought you on, but you are _not_ coming with me.”

Strange turned back around and started walking again.

“Wait, no!, I can help!” Peter said frantically.

“It’s safer here. You’re still just a kid.” Strange began muttering under his breath, “I don’t know why Stark ever brought a kid…”

Peter tried to step forward toward Strange, but a fiery orange portal opened up beneath his feet. He fell through and landed right back where he arrived in the soul realm.

“But there won’t be anyone here with me,” Peter said faintly.

“You’ll be fine as long as if you don’t move from this spot.”

Peter tried to walk again, but his foot found no solid footing and he plunged back into a portal, this time falling face-first onto the grassy ground.

Peter’s head shot up, watching Strange walk away. “What if something attacks me?” Peter tried desperately.

“You won’t be attacked.”

“You just said that the people here will want to kill me! I’m pretty sure that constitutes being attacked!”

Strange momentarily faltered, slowly stopping in his tracks. “Alright,” he sighed after some deliberation, “You can come with me until we find an ally who you can stay with.”

Peter perked up, running towards Strange. He almost bounded ahead of Strange, but Strange grabbed Peter’s arm before he could. “This is way out of your league. Do exactly as I say, or else we’re both going to be killed.”

“Okay, gotcha.” Peter nodded forcefully and began to follow closely behind Strange.

Peter tried to stay quiet. He really did, but eventually he just _had_ to ask, “...So… who did it sound like?”

“I don't know. I did not hear the voice very well.”

“Well, who was it not?”

“It certainly wasn’t Tony Stark, if that’s what you are wondering. I’d wager that it was someone else on the planet with us, or at least nearby.”

“Was the voice feminine or masculine?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“What about—“

Strange stopped for a second and turned to Peter. Strange’s voice was deliberately slow and condescending.: “Spider-Man, we will make no progress if you keep asking me questions. I already said that I don’t know who the voice belonged to. We need to walk in silence; we don’t want to alert anyone that we’re here.”

“Enemies, right,” Peter said hastily. Peter walked quietly beside Doctor Strange for a few seconds before bursting out, “Okay, one last question—”

“If it’s about the voice, I won’t answer it.”

Peter continued, “—why does everything work differently here? I mean, earlier you said that magic here was different.”

“Finally, a decent question,” Strange said, exasperated.

The pair walked through the boundary of the field and into the forest; dappled light filtered through the brush overhead. It was tranquil and peaceful in a way that can only be achieved by an absolute lack of noise and movement. A sense of nothingness plagued the forest.

The scene was both as picturesque and still as a painting.

Strange thought for a moment before explaining. “The energy here is... strange,” Peter snorted. Strange hesitated, then quickly added, “pun unintended. It’s…” He paused. “We’re not completely ourselves here. We have weakened powers and altered body chemistry, so we are unable to tap into the powers and magic that we normally would. The only thing we can really use is the power of the infinity stones.”

Peter frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a problem. We can just use the infinity stones to get home!”

“No, you don’t understand. The infinity stones were created by an event so large we couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. It’s too much power for anyone to wield, so the stones erode whoever may use them, chipping at their psyche until they go insane. Their absolute power corrupts absolutely.

“The unearthly power that Thanos wielded, that godlike strength? In the outside world, that power can easily kill him, but here, we’re trapped right in the middle of it. No one was ever meant to survive here.”

“Can… we be corrupted?”

“Undoubtedly. I doubt even Thanos could resist the corruption of this dimension”

“...Oh.”

The pair walked in uncomfortable silence, approaching the noise Strange had heard. Peter began noticing that the silence wasn’t quite so deafening anymore; either his ears had acclimatized to the lack of noise, or something was becoming louder.

“How would we know that we were corrupted?”

“It takes different forms. The longer we are under the stone’s influence, the more the power would corrupt us. I’m sure that the change would be noticeable; abnormalities in someone’s behavior would probably be the first hint, but it could range from a mental degradation to a physical transformation. It could even—”

They heard something shuffle in the bushes.

Strange motioned for Peter to stop.

A dull blue light began pulsing through the bushes beside them. It grew brighter. Strange motioned for Peter to back away.

From within the bushed skittered a… Something. It was bipedal, but it crawled upon the ground with all the skill of a rat. Its head swiveled from side to side, constantly moving. It snapped its neck to the side, and Strange heard a little _pop._

The creature had a mop of navy hair upon its head and a striking blue skin tone. Its shirt was almost ripped to shreds, and its clothes were a little too tight on its body; the knees were cut and blood-soaked. Its arm was trapped in the remains of the strap of a blue and yellow bag.

The creature looked up with wide eyes. The pupils were contracted to a thin line.

He stared directly at Strange and Peter.

They didn’t move a muscle.

It looked away from them at last, skittishly searching around once again. The creature dug his palms into the ground. A blue portal opened up beneath him and he fell into it, the portal closing as quickly as it opened.

The grass around it slowly rose up again, becoming still once more.

Peter exhaled.

They heard a slithering behind them and turned.

A second creature leaped from the bushes glowing a bright purple. He yowled and landed on Peter, knocking him over: the creature clawed at him viciously, aiming for his eyes like he needed Peter blind, his fingertips glowing with purple energy, Peter barely keeping him at bay. Strange summoned a whip and hit the creature on the back, stunning it but not killing it, and pulled it off of Peter’s back, helping him up before sidestepping another leap from the creature like he knew it was coming.

The creature landed on the ground, releasing a shockwave from the ground it stood on. Strange momentarily lost his balance, but Peter caught him, pulling him up and dodging yet another leap, lower this time. When Strange caught its hand in the fiery chain, it looked around wildly, eyeing all of the possible exits, wrestling its hand from the burning magic.

The chains flickered out and Strange cursed, trying in vain to summon them again. He stopped trying to summon the chains altogether and attempted to bring a sword into existence.

The creature took the opportunity to leap at Peter, but before it could land, it felt a pain in its chest.

The creature froze midair with a blazing sword cut straight through its clavicle.

The creature toppled over as Strange slid the blade from the creature’s torso. The air around the Eye of Agamotto wavered slightly, like a mirage.

The creature breathed his final breath and crumbled into gray dust.

“ _That_ is someone who has been corrupted,” Strange panted, sweat beading on his forehead. Peter clutched his chest, wincing. He felt a bruise coming on.

Strange’s weapon flickered in and out of existence before disintegrated into thin air. Strange cursed, trying to summon it again, but his hand remained empty.

Peter shook himself out of his stupor. “You just killed someone!” Peter’s rushed words tumbled out of his mouth.

“That person’s very core was corrupted. I put them out of their misery.” Strange commented, softer this time, “It was a necessary evil.”

Peter looked at the remnants of the body of what he could only assume was an alien. “These creatures were different… that one guy teleported… and that other guy did… that… thing... Were they… were they corrupted by different stones?”

“Yes, I’ve already drawn that conclusion.” Strange brushed himself off. “They seem to be individually linked to a stone. The second creature was probably influenced by the power stone,” Strange remarked.

“Why?”

“I can’t even begin to fathom why. Perhaps it was what was used to kill them. Perhaps it was just chance. Maybe the whole thing is some _wacky coincidence,_ I don’t care about it when they’re attacking us,” Strange snapped, enunciating each word sharply. He massaged his forehead, trying to ease the killer headache that was threatening to overtake his head.

“Alright.” Peter said timidly. Strange adjusted his collar (or lack thereof). “Should we still head this way?”

“Yes. I’m sure we’ll another uncorrupted person eventually. After all, we seem to be fine thus far, so it shouldn’t be a stretch that others are uncorrupted as well.” Strange straightened before briskly taking off again.

Peter stared at the scattered dust of the newly dead creature for a moment before snapping out of it and quickly following behind Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked chapter two! From now on, updates will be pretty much regular, with the exception of a few weeks where I'm going on vacation.
> 
> I'm excited for you all to see this story play out! Until then, you can ask me questions about it on my tumblr https://merelyspecters.tumblr.com/. This week, I'm going to a place without access to electronics so I won't be able to respond to anything, but on Friday I'll have Internet again.
> 
> Until next week!


	3. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Strange and Peter Parker find a way.

The forest was not one to give up its secrets easily, as Strange soon found. In fact, it refused to let Strange and Peter make progress for what felt like days (but one can never tell when there is no sun to mark the time and the light shines for evermore). 

Finally, the pair heard something rustle ahead. 

Strange waved for Peter to stop, but Peter continued walking, albeit slower. 

“I don’t feel like there’s any danger,” Peter said. “Normally I’d know, but I don’t feel anything.” 

Strange looked at Peter like he’d added two plus two wrong. “Of course you wouldn’t feel it. You’ve never experienced magical danger in your life,” he said in a hushed voice. 

“No, I would feel it!” Peter retorted loudly. “I have this… thing... spidey sense isn’t an exact science, alright?” 

Strange raised an eyebrow. “Spidey sense?” 

Peter flushed. “I’ve… I’ve been calling it that in my head. I mean, I’m Spider-Man and all that… so, I guess… spidey sense. But I don’t feel danger right now, so—” Peter stopped. 

His hair went on end. 

“Nevermind, I feel it,” he said in a small voice. 

The light around them was suddenly blotted out by a huge shadow looming in the canopy above them. The pair slowed to a quiet stop. 

Strange shushed Peter and pointed to the source of the shadow. 

A figure was walking through the brush, but to call her a woman would be a stretch. She was hulking and large, but she was hunched in such a way that it hid her true size. She moved painstakingly slow, seemingly weighed by a heavy chestplate upon her torso and the giant helmet dragging her head towards the ground. 

What was truly odd was her arms. Even her huge stature couldn’t make up for the sheer volume of the giant arm guards on her forearms; the woman could barely hold it. Peter was reminded of something he saw in Final Fantasy once. 

She was dressed in wholly dark shades of blue and gold, and she pulsed a foreign power. Swirling purple energy surrounded her; it entered her and left, came in and out like a snake. Wherever it entered her body, she winced. 

She felt powerful. _Dangerous_. 

Strange spoke in hushed tones, saying, “Go. _Now_.” 

The thing looked in their direction and her eyes were simply orbs of vibrant purple. 

Peter took one step back before he stopped, hearing the figure speaking, “I hear you. You need not hide.” 

The hulking woman slowly turned fully towards them. In her chest plate was a huge, heaping cavity filled to the brim with purple light. Something was inside, emitting that eerie glow. The hole was dripping, slowly releasing gold and blood onto the ground. 

A large symbol of the Nova Corps was branded on her arm guards. 

Recognition dawned in Strange’s eyes. “Nova Prime.” 

“Not anymore.” The woman sighed. The stillness of their surroundings punctuated the long, drawn-out exhale of the Nova Prime. 

The guard staggered slowly towards them. Strange remained motionless. 

“Why do you cross me?” she asked. 

Strange held up his hands in a gesture of goodwill. “We do not mean to harm you.” 

“That was not my question.” 

“We do not mean to trespass; we were merely looking for others that we know.” 

“I see.” The woman continued to stagger towards them. Peter took a step back. 

“We will be on our way if you would allow us,” Strange added. His head turned slightly towards Peter. He mouthed a distinct, “Stop.” Peter ceased moving backward. 

“What would you accomplish through this? I will inevitably find you again and you will be condemned for your theft,” she said. She was now dangerously close; the two could feel a wave of heat wash off of her. 

Strange frowned. “We have not stolen.” 

Nova Prime laughed. “You play the fool, trying to trick me. I feel the power radiating from you. I know you are here to steal my power. You are just like _him_.” Something caught in her throat as she continued. “You plan to kill every last one of us, every last Corpsman.” 

“We bear no affiliation with Thanos,” Strange explained cautiously. 

“Then why,” the guard lifted his arms and stood up straight, “do you radiate with his power?” She stood at three times Strange’s height. 

The blood poured out of the cavity with more force now, spurting out and almost hitting Peter. 

“We plan no such thing—” 

She steadied his arms, aiming her hands at the pair. Peter realized with a start that they were weapons. 

The Nova Prime bore her teeth. “Lies,” she hissed. 

She charged them up and released a burst of energy point blank at Strange. 

Everything seemed to slow around them. Moving faster than Peter thought he could, Strange dodged the blow. 

Time resumed, and the energy blasted open the ground it hit. The beam screeched as it penetrated the surface. 

“You cannot steal it from me!” 

The guard’s eyes clouded over with that same purple light that was being emitted from her chest. She stomped on the ground and a shockwave erupted from beneath his feet. 

Peter scrambled towards a nearby tree, managing to escape the wave, but Strange wasn’t so lucky. Purple energy blasted him off of his feet and he crashed to the ground. 

Peter shot webs at the Nova Prime as she approached Strange: one hit her in the back, where it collided with a stream of energy. She hissed in pain. She turned towards Peter and began lumbering towards him. 

“Uh, hi! You’re looking a little… uh…” Peter rambled, scuttling away from her. “I find myself at a loss for words, you’re just that delightful—” The Nova Prime released another blast and knocked down the tree, barely missing Peter. Peter fell off of his branch and hit the ground, backing away until he ran into a fallen tree. “Crap,” he muttered, trying and failing to climb over it backward. He couldn’t move anywhere and was left to look up into the massive woman’s eyes. 

“You’re about the same age as my nephew,” she smiled fondly. Her face fell. “I’m sorry you must die.” She approached Peter as he tried and failed to scramble back further. 

Nova Prime didn’t raise her arms this time; instead, a purple glow formed in her eyes, charging up, about to strike— 

Her neck was suddenly wrapped in cords of fire. 

Strange’s eyes glinted green as he pulled the whip back. Nova Prime staggered backward as Strange continued to pull the fiery chain towards him, inch by inch. The muscles strained in his forearms, and you could see the perspiration on his brow. 

As soon as she was in reach, Strange reached up and— 

Her head toppled down, cut by a glimmering whip. 

The body wavered for a moment, stuck in a standing position, then it fell. It fell and the ground shook beneath it. 

Wincing, Peter stood up and brushed himself off. Man, those bruises were going to kill him later. 

Strange neared the body and examined the decapitated head. She was Xandarian, but she was three times the size of her kin. Strange tried moving the head but it wouldn’t budge from its place. 

“Doctor Strange? I think I know what gave her… powers.” 

Strange climbed onto the massive chest plate and walked to where Peter stood. He was pointing at the cavity inside the chest. 

Inside lay a purple stone. 

“Impossible,” Strange said, frowning. 

“Didn’t… didn’t Thanos have that when he…” Peter trailed off as he stared at the stone. 

“Yes. He needed all six.” Strange knelt down and examined the cavity more closely. “It must not be the real power stone...” 

The power stone was the most obvious thing in the cavity; its purple glow filled the corpse’s chest with light. There were smaller details, though, that Strange had missed the first time. The entire wound was coated in fine dust. 

“...maybe it’s a physical manifestation of the stone’s power?” 

Strange put his hand in the wound. 

“What are you doing—” Peter started. He abruptly stopped when Strange pulled out the power stone coated in grime. 

As Strange held the stone, the body began to shake. 

“Get off,” Strange commanded. They quickly got off of the body before it collapsed inwards on itself. It shivered before it turned to dust. 

Peter’s breathing quickened. 

He glanced at the stone on Strange’s palm. It seemed to be sinking into Strange’s hand, glowing, emitting those same tendrils of power. Strange tried dropping it, but it held on as if caught by glue. He pried it off with his other hand before it fully settled and dropped it as if it were a hot coal. His hand returned to its normal color. 

Peter looked at the dust on the ground and realized it was on him. He could almost feel it creeping up his body again. He took a shaky breath, looking away from the silvery material. 

The dust sluggishly moved toward the stone like it was a magnet and was sucked in with a soft snapping sound. 

Strange made a quick gesture and the stone disappeared. He wiped off his hands. “I sealed it in the mirror dimension. It should be safe.” 

“How do you know that it’s completely safe?” 

“I don’t know, but we can’t just leave it here or risk becoming corrupted ourselves.” Strange gestured to the ashy remains of the guard. 

Peter approached the ground where the power stone had fallen. The grass around the area sizzled and blew smoke into the air. 

“She was connected to the power stone,” Strange said. “That explains her large size. She was... different than the rest. The corrupted we’ve seen so far have been completely overcome, but she was... more like a _host_ of the stone.” 

“She was still insane, though.” 

“Yes, but we cannot discount the immense power she had at her fingertips.” Strange began pacing. “I know that the aether sought out Jane Foster as a host and drew on her lifeforce. Perhaps the same is happening here. It’s mutually beneficial, I suppose: the stone gets protection and an outlet for its power,” he looked down to where the corpsman’s ashes lay, “and the host receives a practically unbreakable corruption, severed only by death. Close to immortality.” 

“Do…” Peter trailed off, deep in thought. “Do you think we could use these stones to get out of here?” 

“That…” Strange stopped. He was about to say it was idiotic, but maybe… “That could work.” His eyes drifted as he fell deep in thought. “I mean, of course, there is the risk of corruption, but risks are something we must take to get out of this situation. We cannot simply look into the future for answers.” 

“Wait, hold up. I thought you said we couldn’t get out from inside this dimension?” 

“That’s what I thought because we couldn’t access the stones, but it stands to reason that if we found one stone, we can find the others. We can use them to reverse Thanos’s actions without the Avengers ever needing to touch the stones.” 

“What about Mr. Stark? You said he would save us.” 

Strange was quiet for a moment like he was gathering his thoughts. “What I saw was one possibility out of fourteen million. There could have been others where we won, but I wasn’t able to see them in time.” He spoke in a slightly lower voice. “If there is a way to achieve a better outcome, then we must try to find it, because… well, there are losses in that scenario. 

“Don’t you trust that Mr. Stark will find a way? The Avengers will do whatever it takes.” 

Strange hesitated. “He is capable of great sacrifice. I respect him, but I would much rather take the brunt of the punishment for Thanos’s snap myself. After all, I was the one who gave up the time stone.” 

Dr. Strange looked Peter over. “You look a little red; did the Nova Prime injure you?” 

“No, but you should take a look in the mirror,” Peter deflected. Indeed, Strange looked rough; his face was red and covered in sweat. His arms were shaking from all the physical exertion. 

“I suppose we should rest for a few minutes before continuing,” Strange said, sitting down by one of the trees. He leaned up against it, allowing himself just a moment of respite. 

Peter sat down as well, landing on the ground with a soft thump. Peter tried to keep his eyes open, but something about the still canopy of leaves above them was hypnotic; the longer he looked at it, the more exhausted he felt. 

He slumped backward and closed his eyes. Strange, too, fell into a deep slumber. 

Peter’s sleep was dreamless. The only thing that penetrated his mind that time was the soft ebb of red light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally getting into the meatier portion of the story! One infinity stone down, five to go.


	4. Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soul dimension messes with its inhabitants.

The soul dimension’s constant light had no discernable source; no sun graced the sky or marked the days (or hours, or minutes, or seconds), yet the passage of time nonetheless crawled forward. What was left of Peter’s internal clock was his only connection to a normal cycle of time, but even that was becoming more and more inconsistent. 

As the pair slumbered, something began to move in front of them. Dust collected on the ground, creating something of the dirt below. 

A rat finally appeared with a pop. It remained frozen for a second before skittering passed the pair, glowing with an ethereal emerald light. Each of its steps was labored; it seemed to be moving in slow motion. It began to shrink, its fur disappearing, and then it stopped, a mewling baby. 

The rat remained that way for a minute before its size expanded again. It gained mass and fur in the blink of an eye. Within seconds it was back to being an adult. 

It climbed over Strange’s legs as it traveled forwards. Strange shifted in his slumber, his face twitching. 

In a moment the rat was gone. 

Strange’s pupils moved beneath his closed eyelids. He took in a sharp breath, and his eyes snapped open. 

He took in the forest around him and sat up straight, questioning the landscape around him. The small clearing they had found themselves in was framed with trees, each within meters of the others. Tall grasses and soft-looking flowers covered the ground in between, carpeting the dirt. The clearing they had fallen asleep in was completely identical to the others they had walked through. 

It was all so still, for no wind moved the plants about; everything remained stagnant. 

...Yet, as Strange looked, he noticed movement in the trees above him. He looked up and spotted a robin sitting on a branch above. Its body was cracked, open wounds bleeding purple blood onto the leaves below. 

As soon as Strange saw the bird’s cracked body, he remembered their circumstances. Scenes from the previous day flooded back into his mind, and he relaxed. 

Alongside the bird sat something that looked like a squirrel, but a hard shell gave away its alien nature. It shuddered and a puff of yellow smoke was released from its nostrils. Its six yellow eyes gleamed in their sockets, all focused on Strange. He looked away, losing the unspoken staring contest. 

More aware, he looked around them and realized that the stillness was no longer completely still. Now, bugs scuttled through trees. More and more creatures were being inducted into the infinity stones’ hellscape. Life may have filled the dimension, but it was just as unnerving and unnatural. 

The light shone through the leaves above them, blanketing them in a light tinted green. 

He looked to his left and saw Peter leaning against a tree. His eyes were shut and his mouth gaped open, his soft snores filling the silence. 

“Spider-Man,” Strange said, tapping him on the shoulder. 

Peter jolted awake. When he looked up and saw Strange, his eyes filled with sheer panic. “Get away!” he yelled, scooting backward into the tree. 

He made eye contact with Strange. 

His breathing slowed. “Oh. Sorry, Doctor Strange. I…” he grappled with his thoughts, reaching for an explanation. “I didn’t know who you were for a second.” 

“It’s fine,” Strange said curtly. 

He turned away, expecting Peter to stand up, but Peter remained seated. 

Strange looked around, hearing the scuttling movements around them. “More creatures are arriving in this dimension,” he said in Peter’s direction. Strange knelt and picked up a pill bug that writhed on the ground. 

As soon as the bug felt his skin, it glowed bright yellow. Stange felt something crawl into his mind, a crude presence trying to invade. He dropped the insect, and the feeling went away. “Everything must be corrupted here,” he mused. 

“Everything?” 

“Yes.” 

“But we’re not.” 

“Not yet. We may just be prolonging the inevitable.” 

Peter bit his lip and remained quiet, looking away from Strange. “...oh.” 

Before the silence between them could continue to become awkward, Strange picked himself up off of the ground. Seeing that Peter hadn’t stood up yet, Strange held out his hand to Peter. “Here,” he said, “before I regret it.” 

Peter took his hand and Strange pulled him to his feet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were starting to like me,” Peter teased. 

“Then it’s a good thing you know better.” 

Peter brushed the dirt off of his suit. “Where to?” he asked. 

“We came from over there,” Strange gestured to his right, “so we should continue in the opposite direction.” 

“Do we have a plan?” 

“Yes, to explore.” 

“What about an actual plan?” 

“Exploring _is_ an actual plan,” Strange said defensively. “We don’t know who else may be lingering in these woods, and we have few ways of searching them out.” 

“But can’t we use your portals instead of walking?” 

“No; we might miss something along the way. Plus, using that much magic may leave me unprotected in a fight.” 

“Alright, alright,” Peter said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. They began walking in the opposite direction from the clearing. "But I'll bet you five bucks that we won't run into anything for at least an hour." 

That was when they began hearing the voice. 

"You owe me five bucks," Strange muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a shorter chapter this time, but don't worry: the person featured in the next chapter will more than make up for it :)


	5. Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair encounters the space stone's host, but the situation becomes complicated.

“I can fix this,” the voice started, then stopped. A lapse of two minutes occurred before it spoke again. 

“Stop. Stop. I should be able to fix this.” 

It paused; a crash followed soon after. “ I am not... I am not. I am of Asgard. I am no longer this—” 

A tree toppled in the distance. 

“I am not this monster!” It was a scream now. “I am _Odinson_!” 

Strange and Peter made eye contact. “Is that Thor?” Peter asked, worried. 

“That’s not Thor’s voice.” 

Peter started to run forwards, but Strange held out his hand. He held up a finger to his lips. 

“Right,” Peter whispered. They quietly began to walk towards the shouting. 

A clearing lay in front of them, but it was not a meadow; the only reason the area was clear of vegetation was because the trees had been toppled by a figure in the center of it all. 

He was staggering around, apparently in great pain. He convulsed, and his dark clothing ripped; he was growing. 

Peter moved, and the grasses made a noise. It wasn’t loud. 

But it was enough. 

The figure twisted and looked at them. His skin was a startling blue, and it was covered in raised scars and ridges. His eyes were a bright blood red: a frost giant. 

Loki. 

His limbs weren’t solid; they blinked in and out of existence, becoming translucent. He transitioned to human skin but then froze over, becoming icy blue. His entire body flickered. 

Loki’s eyes glazed over with a blue light when he laid eyes on the sorcerer. He laughed harshly. “It’s good to know that I wasn’t the only powerful one to fall by Thanos’s hand.” 

Strange tensed as the ground around him began to shake. Peter took a few steps back, away from Loki’s line of sight. 

Strange fell downwards as a portal abruptly opened up beneath him. Blue tendrils of energy appeared in the air by Loki’s side. With a crack, a portal opened, and Strange crashed to the ground beside Loki. Peter stayed back. 

Loki flicked his hand ever so slightly upwards and Strange was picked up off of the ground. Those same tendrils of energy wrapped around him and firmly kept him a few feet off of the air. 

“Did Hela send you?” he said with a sneer. “Are you one of the many, one of the legions that she has me slay? I thought you knew better than to be her _plaything_.” He spat out the last word. 

The blue magic around him pulsed, and Loki yelped as his cheek cracked open. Blue light broke through the dust-coated slit. Loki’s composure broke, and he put his hand over the wound. His hand flared with green fire as he began to close the cut. 

Strange looked down at Loki, getting a better look at the new scars that crisscrossed his arms. 

Noticing Strange’s glance, Loki grimaced. “I reverted to my… unaltered state as soon as I arrived in Hel,” he said. He looked at his hands, now those of a frost giant. “It is interesting, to say the least. I have never truly been… I have never seen myself as a giant.” He winced again. “This place breaks a man down to his basest parts. You must feel it as well,” Loki continued. “Everything fails here, everything dies anew. Even the Allfather’s magic can’t stand up under the power of death.” His eyes glowed blue again. 

Strange pulled his head away from the energy that neared his face. “Surely someone as powerful as you would know that we’re not dead, Loki.” 

Loki chuckled darkly. “You can’t deceive me.” He paused. “Though I wonder how you died.” 

“I never died. We’re not in Hel, we are inside the infinity stones.” 

Loki laughed humorlessly. “My neck was snapped, Strange. How naive do you think I am?” 

Strange looked at Loki evenly. “Why would I lie?” 

Loki shrugged. “Even if you are right, then the only reason I’m here is because I was choked with the very hand that held the infinity stones. I’m just a bit of a soul, left-over energy stored to be used. I don’t know how you’ve come here, but for me? I am dead no matter where I may be.” Loki made a sweeping motion with his hands. “Then again, at least I have power here, and eternity before me.” As Loki spread his hands, Strange noticed the space stone sunken deep within one of his palms. “I may be dead, but nothing can harm me here.” 

Loki looked down at his hand. He shuddered, shutting his eyes. His eyes seemed to freeze over. 

Loki spoke again. His voice was both far away and whispering in Strange’s ear. “Space is nothing here.” 

He flicked his hand and Peter heard wind. It whistled, growing louder and louder until it was roaring. Portals began to open up around them, each opening with a sickening snap. 

Corrupted creatures began to climb from the whirling portals, all bearing the blue energy of the Tesseract ( _though Strange supposed it was no longer the Tesseract now, just a jewel in Loki’s hand, swirling and blue and toxic_ ). 

It was apparent that they hadn’t all been human before they were corrupted. Some bore twisted horns and fiery red skin, while others were blue, decorated with black and silver markings. There were too many varieties to count. 

They all fixated on Strange. 

One last creature stumbled out of a portal. He was toting a dark blue sweater and tousled hair. Peter’s stomach turned as he recognized him.

Ned Leeds turned around and made eye contact with Peter. His eyes were the same as Loki’s: a shining pale blue. Those eyes widened and, for a second, Peter thought he saw recognition grace his eyes. 

It was gone seconds later. 

Ned looked at him with empty eyes and screeched. For a split second Loki’s eyes snapped towards Peter. They flickered between red and blue, and as they did, Loki's magic flickered around him. 

It was all Strange needed. He wrenched himself out of his magical bonds and activated his sling ring. He jumped through the portal and closed it as quickly as it opened. He had only made it a few meters away, but he used his newfound advantage to brush past the corrupted beside him, taking advantage of their surprise. 

Peter dove to the side as a blue portal began to open underneath him, running the opposite direction. His bruised ribs screamed at him. 

Strange briefly saw Peter running through the brush before he saw another crackle of energy on the ground. He opened another swirling orange portal and jumped in before Loki’s could swallow him. He was running before he hit the ground on the other side. 

“It’s in his hand,” Strange yelled. 

“I know!” Peter yelled back. 

Loki created portal after portal, each a fresh labor. Every time, his hand cracked apart just a little more, fissures expanding, an earthquake shaking his fist. It was as if Loki’s body was resisting a complete take-over. 

The creatures leaped at Peter. 

Peter looked straight ahead as he ran, the screaming noises behind him were all he needed to know. He felt a tinge in his gut and ducked left. A projectile barely missed his left ear. 

Peter continued to run even as he activated his web shooters. He sprung upward before his web connected with the trees, not bothering to wait until he knew it was safe. He fell down and his web straightened with a snap. He grabbed it with one hand, allowing his body to relax as he swung around a tree 180 degrees. He landed on a branch, now swinging in the opposite direction, back toward Loki. 

As he swung back through the trees Peter tried to think about what to do when he got to Loki, but he couldn’t, not with the angry buzzing in his head and snapping at his heels. 

Peter carved his way through the throng of mindless corruption, seeing Strange in the distance doing the same. He caught a glimpse of Strange one moment, but the next, he was gone. As Peter finally neared Loki, Strange made it to his side. Strange emerged directly in front of Loki, landing a single hit with his whip before being swept up in blue bonds once again. 

Loki almost began laughing, but then he felt where Strange’s whip had landed: directly on top of the space stone. He grimaced as a burning pain shot up his arm. The fiery chain singed his wrist, getting tighter and tighter. Loki took his other hand and grabbed it, ignoring the pain in his other hand to try and get it off. Strange’s bonds flickered: he began writhing, almost breaking through. 

Peter took it as his opening. He shot his webs at a rock and used it as a slingshot, swinging the web and releasing it right at Loki’s head. Within moments he fell through one of Loki’s blue portals and landed at Loki’s feet, but as he looked up, he heard a solid thunk. Loki’s neck snapped back and he stumbled backward. He remained standing, but he appeared shaken. 

Loki shook his head and looked up. His eyes were a bloody red again. 

He stumbled back further and fell upon a felled tree. 

Strange was fully released from his bonds. All the creatures directly around them were sucked back into portals, disappearing as they snapped tightly shut. 

The pair barely had time to register what was happening before Loki was in Strange’s face, holding out his hand. The space stone gleamed inches away from Strange's face. 

“ _Take it_ ,” Loki said from behind clenched teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write: I didn't feel satisfied with it for a long time. Even so, I had fun inducting Loki into this crazy universe of mine :)
> 
> Next week I will be going to San Diego Comic-Con! As a result, the next chapter will be delayed: I'll probably upload it next Wednesday, but it's hard to be sure.


	6. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of being a host are made clear.

Before Loki could make another move, Strange had summoned his whip and wrapped it around Loki’s wrist, yanking him to the ground in one clean motion. He put a foot on Loki’s back. Loki didn't resist. 

“Is this a trick?” Peter mumbled to Strange. 

Loki continued, “I am not strong enough for it. I do not want to be under its control again.” 

“How do we know that you won’t be overtaken by the stone again?” Strange said cooly. 

“I can give you no guarantee except my word, and the warning that the longer this stone is with me, the more corrupted I'll become.” The longer Strange waited, the more panicked Loki’s voice got. 

Loki pleaded, “I don’t care, just make it—” Suddenly, he stopped. His breath became ragged. The cracks on his torso burst open again. 

Immediately, Strange summoned a space shard and put it to Loki’s wrist, forcing the blade right up against the skin. Loki clenched his teeth, abandoning all attempts to look composed. Strange pushed the shard downward, and Loki’s hand came clean off, separating from the limb with an unpleasant squelch. 

The hand around the space stone glowed before disintegrating into dust. 

Loki squirmed under Strange’s foot, desperately trying to get away from the stone as it sluggishly tried moving toward Loki again. Strange quickly waved his hands and sealed the stone in the mirror dimension. 

No longer driven by the stone, the corrupted monsters around them stilled before losing interest, each wandering off to their own corner. Peter’s eyes followed Ned before he crept out of sight. 

Loki’s posture relaxed. He laughed, half-delirious, half-relieved. He looked to Strange. “Thank you. I suppose you’re a true sorcerer after all.” He gently brought his other hand to the stump, summoning green flames. They covered the wound, cauterizing it quickly. 

Peter’s pose was still tense. “What… what happened? Why did you snap out of it?” 

“Cognitive recalibration,” Strange mused. “I read a study after the Battle of New York on it. Some agent under Loki’s control was snapped out of the mind stone's control once he was hit in the head.” 

“I… think I remember him,” Loki commented, grimacing, “though that battle was a blur.” 

“You don’t remember it?” Peter asked. 

“I was under Thanos’s control. He used the mind stone on me,” Loki said. 

Strange frowned. “Thor never said anything about that.” 

“Thor didn’t know. I never told anyone.” 

“Why didn’t you want to clear your name?” Peter asked, confused. 

“The fear of Thanos kept me in check, I suppose…. There is nothing more humiliating than admitting you were weak enough to be manipulated. I should know, I’m the god of lies.” 

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow! You’re _literally_ a god? That's so cool!” 

Loki was almost smiling now, enjoying talking to someone besides himself. “Yes, I am—” 

Loki suddenly gasped, cutting short his statement. He raised his wrist and saw it cracking apart, fading into dust. “I don’t... That was supposed to stop...” Loki’s eyes widened. 

Loki’s face slacked. 

Dust was consuming his arm, moving at a steady rate. This time, the decimation was slow, but it came all the same. Loki’s breathing steadied. He sighed, exhaling slowly. “I should have expected this. I have evaded death too many times.” A somewhat peaceful expression settled on his face ( _though Peter wondered if acceptance could be considered peace_ ). He sat down as he felt his legs go numb. “I was lucky to get another few minutes.” 

Peter’s eyes widened. He looked from Loki’s arm to Strange and back. “Is it supposed to do that?” 

“No,” Strange replied, his eyebrows furrowed. 

As the deterioration approached Loki’s face, he grabbed Peter’s wrist. Peter flinched, but Loki gripped his wrist even tighter. “Listen to me. I am truly sorry for the sorrow I caused to Earth, and I wish to tell Thor—” 

His eyes went blank, and he collapsed like wet sand. 

A pile of dust gathered at their feet. 

Peter stepped back, shaking his foot to get the dust off of his shoe’s sole. He took a few more steps back. “Wait, we saved him!” Peter looked at Strange frantically. “He didn’t have the infinity stone anymore; he wasn’t corrupted!” 

“...He was connected to the stone in the same way that Nova Prime was. Even though he was severed, the stone was what powered his essence. When that was gone, he could not... he couldn’t maintain a form.” 

Peter kneeled, taking a closer look at the ash on the ground before them. He cupped his hands and picked some up, but the dust was already starting to disappear. 

“I suppose he wouldn’t have come back anyway,” Strange said finally. “He had already been killed, so he wouldn’t have returned with us. That’s the difference between Loki and the rest of the world, I’m afraid. The world is still living, but Loki died for good. 

“He’s gone, then, just like the Nova Prime,” Peter said. “I should hate him for New York, but…” he paused. “I guess it wasn’t his choice.” 

“If he hadn’t died here, he would have remained in this dimension indefinitely, driven mad by the stone in his hand. This was a mercy.” 

“It doesn’t feel like one.” 

Strange kneeled down beside the place where the stone had rested and observed the circle of now-dead grass. “At least now we can conclude that those who are corrupted cannot be uncorrupted, at least not without leaving this dimension. We are truly the world’s only hope.” 

“Yeah. The people Loki commanded were— Ned,” Peter said, his eyes widening, “Ned is here. Some of my friends are probably here— _MJ_!” Peter forced himself to be calm. “We can get Ned back, right? We can get them all back!” 

Strange looked down at Loki’s remains, examining them closely. “Maybe. If we jump-started Loki’s mind, we could probably help Ned get back to his. Corruption likely wouldn't take hold for a while since he isn't a host.” 

“We have to find him then,” Peter quickly added. He scanned the edge of the forest around them for any sign of life. "Ned!" he shouted. "Are you here?!" 

“Don’t hold your breath. It probably won’t work,” Strange said. His businesslike tone was unreasonably harsh. “There's no guarantee that Ned would last any longer than Loki did: it’s just not realistic. Are you willing to abandon your friend of he turns against you?” 

“...You would act differently if someone you knew was here.” 

“No. I wouldn’t. I’m sorry, but the best chance you have of saving your friends is saving the world.” 

“What about saving the people you've killed?” 

“Everyone here will be dead anyway if we don’t succeed, which is what would have happened if they hadn’t been eliminated. Do you think I enjoy this? Enjoy wiping someone’s soul from existence? I took an oath to save people, Spider-Man. The _only_ reason I’m doing all of this is because it is the only way.” 

“But there is always another way! You said the Avengers could save us all.” 

“Don’t you think I’ve considered that? You know nothing of the future I'm trying to avoid: there is a heavy toll. If you can tell me a way to save them, I’ll do it. Go on, tell me a solution.” 

Peter silenced. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Strange sighed. “Look. I am genuinely sorry, but our best chance of defeating Thanos and saving everyone is to carry on. For all we know, we’re the only uncorrupted beings in this dimension; we haven’t even glimpsed anyone else from Titan on this planet. We are this universe’s only hope at finding another way to win.” 

Peter stayed silent. His jaw was clenched in frustration and anger. 

“Spider-Man, I can’t let you risk your life for a minuscule chance of redemption.” 

“...but Ned and my friends will be saved when this whole massacre is undone, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“...Okay.” 

Peter walked away from Strange in the direction they had been heading, never looking back toward Strange. Strange picked himself up and followed behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble: sorry for the delayed release! After this, the uploading schedule will be back to normal :)


	7. Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange and Peter face the host of the reality stone.

The soul world was lacking in a lot of ways: food, for instance, was nowhere to be seen, and even though Peter’s stomach didn’t feel hunger, he acutely missed the taste of it in his mouth. He could really go for a good cheeseburger at any given moment. 

Doctor Strange, on the other hand, missed time. Travelling was a pain when at every moment it feels as though you’ve just left. There were no true landmarks that could help the pair conclude how far they had traveled: the endless trees around them were all the same, as were the bushes. The occasional meadow, the frequent corrupted monsters. Everything was the same, almost computer generated. The same, over and over and over again. 

Stephen didn’t know how long it had been when they heard something moving. He held out his hand to stop Peter but Peter ripped away from his touch. 

Another creature popped out of the brush. 

“Great,” Peter muttered under his breath beside him, activating his web-shooters. Strange summoned a flickering whip and they bounced into action. 

The former alien’s pink skin was cracked, letting the power stone’s glow shine through. Every time she took a step, the cracks grew brighter, causing her to whimper. Her white dress was torn, worn down by weather. Her hands were burned and bloody. 

She froze like a deer in headlights when she saw them. Her eyes widened, and she backed away. 

Peter couldn’t help but wince as she limped backward, stumbling when she ran into a rock. She turned and ran. 

“She looked so helpless.” 

“At least she didn’t attack us,” Strange muttered as they trudged through the brush. 

They walked forward a little longer and walked into a clearing— 

They walked into a building. Cracks crawled up the walls and hanging lights revealed the layers of dust floating in the air. 

Strange spun around and saw the forest behind them fading, consumed by dark metal walls. Peter ran to the wall and pushed against it. It was solid. 

Strange subconsciously fiddled with the Eye of Agamotto. “The reality stone,” he said in a hushed voice. 

A long hallway loomed ahead of them. Slowly, cautiously, they began to walk forward. 

They entered a large room, filled with glass cages and enclosures. Trinkets hung from the ceiling. At the edge of the room, a large glass window loomed, displaying the emptiness of space. 

A shifting movement in one of the cages caught Peter’s eye; a body lay trembling in a high cage. It turned toward him and Peter recognized Mantis, but she was contorting. Her eyes fluttered, ever-changing, as she aged before his eyes. It seemed like she was screaming, but the glass was too sound-proof for the cries to permeate. 

With a shudder, Peter realized that all the cages were filled with people. No, not quite people anymore: corrupted of every hue and stone. 

“This can’t be real,” Peter whispered to himself over and over. 

“Oh, but it is real. This is reality,” a voice said from behind them. Peter whipped around and saw a man standing behind them. He stood tall and proud; his large fur-lined cape hung from his shoulders. His eyes were unclouded by the dark red of the reality stone. “Can I help you?” 

“Yes,” Strange replied without skipping a beat. “Who owns this place?” 

“That would be me,” he said, smiling. He breezed past them, walking to a large window in the center of the room. It looked out onto what looked like space. “Now, if you care to listen, I have a proposition.” 

He gestured at Strange. “You are in the possession of an infinity stone. I would like to buy it.” 

“Unfortunately, they’re not for sale,” Strange said. 

“Oh, you have more than one stone?” the man said with a contemplative air. “I will raise my price, then.” 

“They are not for sale.” 

“What about your friend, then? Are you or your friend for sale?” 

“No.” 

The man sighed. “I am afraid that is not an option.” 

The man seemed to melt, slowly disintegrating into red light. Strange summoned his whip and got into a fighting stance. Peter pulled on his mask and went on guard. 

Quiet consumed the room. 

Suddenly, from nowhere glass walls shot up from the ground. Before they could react, clear walls had surrounded Strange and snapped together above his head. 

“I hope you weren’t expecting to leave that easily,” the man said, appearing behind them suddenly. His eyes were also unclouded. “You can’t leave my museum without giving me a souvenir.” The Collector held out his hand. “Now, the stones, please, and I’ll release you both.” 

Peter was banging on the side of Strange’s box, trying to break it. “Hey!” he yelled. The Collector paid him no mind. 

The Collector reached forward through the box’s walls, bypassing them like they were air. His fingers grazed the Eye of Agamotto. 

Strange made eye contact with the Collector. “Release me. They are not for sale.” 

“Alright.” The Collector shrugged. He suddenly snapped his fingers, and Strange’s box levitated into the air. Peter yelped as Strange was forced further and further upwards. “If I can’t have all the stones, I can at least have you.” 

Strange started to use his sling ring, but hands of glass reached out towards him and grabbed his wrists; one pried his flickering whip out of his hand. They forced him back as he struggled. He started to chant a spell, but a crystal hand grabbed him by the mouth. 

“There,” the Collector said decisively. 

The Collector turned to Peter. “Your friend is trapped up there, but I’d be willing to release him if you could convince him to give me his stones.” 

Peter tried punching the Collector but his hand passed right through him. From behind him, another voice said, “It isn’t that easy to get rid of me, dear.” Peter whipped around to look at him and saw him sitting on top of Strange’s cage. This one was different, though: not only were his eyes ruby red, but his skin shifted between thousands of different materials, becoming sandstone and sea foam and concrete within seconds. 

As Strange struggled fruitlessly against his bonds, the Collector slid off of the cage, coming to a stop near the window. 

Peter grimaced. “Uh, is it possible to trade something else?” 

“What do you have in mind?” The Collector leaned on a table ( _had it been there before?_ ) and looked at him with a curious air. 

“What if—” Peter wracked his brain, wildly trying to think of an option. “What if we brought you the other infinity stones?” 

The Collector cocked his head. He waved his hand; Peter noticed that its veins were pulsing red. The reality stone was embedded in its palm. “Go on, I’m interested.” 

“We’re looking for other infinity stones as it is. What if we brought you the other ones we find?” 

“I see what you are proposing. My problem is,” he gestured to Strange, hanging above them, “when will you give me the stones that you already possess?” 

“We would do that after we got all of them.” 

“Why then?” 

“Because— because we need them to defeat the other people who have stones.” He edged closer to the Collector. 

“I see.” The Collector rested his head on his pulsating palm. The face surrounding it shifted, becoming bark and water and solid blood. 

Peter looked the Collector in the eyes, but his eyes were slowly drawn to the stone in his hand. It was deeply unsettling, but Peter found he didn’t want to look away. 

(A part of Peter’s mind yelled at him, screamed at him, take the stone, _take it_ , kill him and rip it from his cold, dead body.) 

“Alright.” the Collector said, snapping Peter from his trance. “I will release him.” 

The enclosure slowly lowered from above them. Strange was jostled as the hands suddenly let go of him, letting him drop to the glass ground. 

Strange collected himself and stood up. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Peter said carelessly to Strange. Strange gave him an odd look before following him away. Before they could get far, Strange noted Peter’s anxious looks backward at the Collector. He didn’t think anything of it until he saw Peter fiddling with his web-shooters. 

Strange whispered, “No—” 

Peter turned around and shot a string of web fluid at the Collector’s hand, still held by his face. 

The web never made it to the collector. Before it even neared him, it ballooned into a bunch of bubbles. 

“There is no way you could possibly think that would work,” the Collector taunted. 

Peter reeled as the floor beneath him sucked him in, changing from stone to quicksand faster than he could blink. Strange sidestepped the falling floors, leaping onto a display case before the ground collapsed beneath him. 

“You’re a terrible liar, you know,” the Collector said airily. 

Strange started running towards cover but began slowing quickly. His limbs wouldn’t budge; formations of crystal seemed to be working their way up his legs, encasing his limbs. He cursed and kicked them off. 

He ran again until he felt a sharp pain in his feet. Strange tripped, slamming against the ground as his legs ceased working. He saw that those same crystals were no longer encasing his legs, they were becoming his legs, replacing bone and muscles alike and growing like a weed. 

Peter yelled out, “Stop! He didn’t do anything!” Peter willed with all his mind for the spread to _stop_ ( _he couldn’t let someone die, not again_ ). 

The Collector ignored the incapacitated Strange, focusing on the boy in front of him. “You can’t steal the stone from me. Better thieves than you have tried.” 

“I cannot let your foolishness go unpunished, though” he continued, lifting Peter up with swirls of sand. 

Strange made a portal by him on the ground and crawled through, landing directly behind the Collector. 

The Collector flexed his fingers, willing Peter to slide apart as if cut by a cleaver. Peter felt something in his gut. He steeled himself, waiting for the inevitable. 

Nothing happened. 

The Collector frowned, shaking his hand. Peter remained as human as he had ever been. The Collector snapped again, but Peter still didn’t change. 

“I see: you’re connected. You’ll make an excellent addition to my collection.” 

Suddenly, the Collector’s eyes widened. Their scarlet sheen dimmed as the Collector toppled over, a jagged space shard sticking out of the back of his head like a throwing knife. 

Strange was leaning on the table for support, keeping his weight off of his dead feet. The crystal had stopped moving up his legs and remained stagnant at the knees. He clutched another jagged space shard in his hand; it cut into the skin, but Strange paid it no attention; his eyes were fixed on Peter. 

“You did it!” Peter whooped. He was lowered gently onto the ground by the columns of sand around him. When his feet touched the floor, the sand quickly drew back into the ground with a soft sucking sound. Peter wondered why Strange looked so unnerved. 

Strange looked into Peter’s now glimmering red eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three infinity stones down?


	8. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of the situation becomes too much to handle.

The corpse of the Collector shook before disintegrating into dust. The reality stone was now fully exposed; it still pulsated with power. It shook, turning as if it was drawn by a magnet. 

Peter frowned. “Doctor Strange, what’s it…” Peter trailed off, transfixed by the growing light. Its shadows twisted like fire, pulling him in. 

The reality stone levitated, slowly drifting towards Peter. 

Red bordered Peter’s vision. 

The stone inched towards him, picking up speed, accelerating. 

Strange staggered towards the Collector, using every exhibit around them as support. He stumbled forward, toward Peter, and he crashed through the glass of a cage, quickly making a motion with his hand. Orange magic flickered to life around his fingers. 

The reality stone approached, growing nearer and nearer. It was almost to Peter— 

The stone shot into a portal. Strange shut the breach as soon as it was through. 

Peter exhaled a breath he didn’t know that he’d been holding. 

“It sought a new host,” Strange said as he slumped against the nearest display. The crystals in his legs were dissipating slowly but surely, leaving small cuts and bruises scattered on his lower limbs. “You were already predisposed to it, so it went after you.” 

Peter frowned. “I… I’m corrupted?” 

Strange’s breathing became less labored. “Yes; I suppose it’s why the Collector couldn’t transfigure you as he did me.” 

“Am I still corrupted?” Peter ran his hand through his hair, nervously playing with the tips. 

“Yes.” 

“Am… am I going to become like Ned?” 

“Maybe. Probably. It might take time.” Strange put his head in his hands. “Look, I don’t know everything, I’m making guesses as we go. Right now I just know that I’ve got a splitting headache and I’d appreciate some quiet.” 

Around them, the dark walls of the museum dissipated, bringing them back to the brightly lit forest of the soul dimension. They squinted as their eyes adjusted to the light. 

Peter stayed unusually silent. If Strange had looked back he would have seen Peter rubbing his hands together, dislodging stray pieces of sand that clung to his fingertips. Peter shook them off. But Strange didn’t look back: he collapsed to the ground, weighted by his inanimate legs. The crystal was slowly fading, but it still far outweighed the amount of living tissue in his legs. 

“Let’s get far away from here,” Peter said quickly, brushing himself off even though there was no longer anything left to brush off. 

“Not yet. I… I can’t move.” 

“Oh... okay.” Peter sat down heavily near him. Peter watched the crystal ebb from Strange: each piece that dissipated left Strange wincing. 

An awkward silence ensued. 

After a few minutes, Peter spoke up. “If… if I’m corrupted and I look fine… does… that mean you’re corrupted, too?” 

Strange didn’t answer. Peter didn’t ask again. 

It was ever so quiet and still. Peter felt the pressure building and building in his eardrums, numbed by the overbearing silence. The only sounds came from their own breathing, but even their breathing was not enough to make a dent in the overwhelming din of nothingness. 

In the silence Peter felt his memories creeping up on him. Aunt May’s voice shadowed every thought. He shook his head. 

“Hey, Doctor Strange?” Peter’s voice cracked on the first word. “What would you be doing right now if we weren’t in this dimension?” 

Strange exhaled. “It’s useless to consider that. We are stuck whether we like it or not.” 

“I know _that_ , but what’s the harm in imagining a different outcome?” 

Strange stayed silent. 

“Okay, uh… I guess I’ll go first,” Peter said after a few seconds of waiting. He shifted his weight, leaning back against the tree. “We would have defeated Thanos, I guess, so… I would probably be home right now. We were going on a field trip, but I think it would have been canceled after what happened. 

“May would be fussing over me, asking dumb questions. I’d reassure her, show her that I wasn’t hurt, and then… she would hug me. Right now we would be watching some TV show together. We’d have that organic popcorn she likes to buy or whatever, it isn’t really that good.” 

Peter paused for a moment before continuing, his eyes alight with possibilities. “I would have asked May if Ned could have come over! She totally would have let him come. He’s asked me about what happened in space, and I’d tell him that I saved a bunch of people, and he would laugh, and we’d watch a rerun of Star Wars. I think it’s… Wednesday, so one of the prequels would be on.” 

Above, the trees hung over them both like executioners. 

“We’d bring out the Death Star and spill popcorn over it. May would tell us not to make a mess, but we would, and she’d laugh and look at us with that mock-stern expression. Yeah…” Peter’s voice grew a little weaker. “That’s what I would be doing. I’d be having a good time and…” his voice cracked, “everything would be fine.” 

Peter stopped talking. 

After a minute, Peter heard a soft sigh. 

“Well, I’d still be in mortal danger,” Strange started, “but Wong was going to get a sandwich before Thanos arrived, so at least I wouldn’t be hungry. We’re a bit low on money right now.” 

The Eye of Agamotto hung heavy on his neck. He touched it, feeling the cool metal. “Something or another would have come up so I would be forced to fight. Maybe I would be battling demons, or protecting the Sanctum from spirits. I’d defend our world against mystical threats… which I suppose I am still doing.” 

“Demons exist?” Peter piped up. His voice still sounded unstable. He wiped a hand across his eyes, trying to compose himself. 

“Unfortunately, yes. I would not be surprised if we encountered them here.” 

“That’s messed up.” 

“I know. There are some days when I almost wish I had never found out.” 

“When we get out, if you guys are still low on cash, we can always have you over for dinner,” Peter said tentatively. “I’m sure aunt May would love to meet an actual wizard.” 

Peter couldn’t see Strange’s soft smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.” 

Another brief pause ensued. 

Peter started, “...Can I ask you something?” 

“Would you stop asking if I said no?” 

“Why are we rushing if you told me the Avengers would find the stones?” 

“...it’s always good to have a plan B,” Strange said hesitantly. His smile faded. 

Even though Strange couldn’t see Peter, Strange could almost feel him slump against the tree. “The Avengers aren’t going to get to the stones in time, are they? You’re trying to fix this before something happens.” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh… what happens? Are the stones destroyed?” 

Strange sighed. “You know I can’t answer that.” 

“Does someone die?” 

“...I can’t answer anything you ask me.” 

Peter stopped asking questions, and they lapsed into a tired silence. At that moment, quiet, as unnerving as it may have been, was a blessing in disguise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts tomorrow for me! I am _not_ excited, but at least I don't have to worry about this story too much because it's mostly done. :-)


	9. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange makes a promise he may not be able to keep.

The feeling finally returned to Strange’s legs. Strange stood up, wobbling slightly. He cursed the blisters on the soles of his feet. “We should continue.” 

“Okay,” Peter replied, getting up as well. If Strange noticed that his face was red, he didn’t comment. 

They began to get up, but something tugged at Peter’s heart. The hair on his arm raised. “Wait…” His vision blurred, and his heartbeat quickened. 

All was quiet. 

A rumble shook the world. The ground beneath their feet quivered, and something crept out of their minds, if only for a split second. 

A creature fell from the tree directly above Strange and landed with a thud on the ground. It breathed heavily as its blood seemed to seep from its body into the ground. It opened its mouth and its head quivered. 

A blue glow left it and it shivered out of existence. A heap of dust took its place. 

Peter looked at the dust on the ground. His mind delayed, and his thoughts became sluggish. 

Suddenly, it clicked. 

Peter lurched backward, in the process moving away from Strange. “It... it turned to dust. Why did that thing turn to dust?” he said, his voice thick. 

Peter looked at the dust on the ground. 

A branch above them quaked, and an animalistic cry rang out. A rain of dust fell on Strange. 

Peter lurched back, quickly wiping the dust from his hair. 

Peter saw his dust-covered fingers. His breathing got quicker. 

Strange saw Peter’s face slacken. “Spider-Man, are you alright?” he asked briskly. 

Peter didn’t respond. His breathing became labored. 

“Spider-Man, you’re safe.” Strange took swift strides towards Peter. As Peter swayed on his feet, Strange approached him. 

“What is it?” he asked gently. 

“I… I felt like…” Peter paused, and his breathing hitched. 

“Like what?” 

“I felt like I did before…” he wheezed, sinking to the ground. 

Strange waited patiently. 

Peter’s arms were hugged around his chest, and he shivered. Strange could almost hear his heart pounding. 

“Before we died,” Peter’s words finally tumbled out. “I felt like I did when everyone began disappearing, that sinking feeling, that look I gave Mr. Stark, that… that…” 

“What did you think was going to happen?” Strange asked. When Peter didn’t answer, he soothingly said, “Breathe.” 

A moment elapsed before Peter replied. 

“I thought we were all going to die again, and I would have to watch you die, and I’d… I’d be all alone and then I would go too, only this time… this time...” 

Peter suddenly hugged him. Strange’s eyes widened in surprise. 

Strange hesitated. He took a breath. “Spider-Man. Spider-Man.” He stopped, then restarted. “...Peter. We didn’t disappear again. We are fine. I am here with you, and I don’t intend on leaving you.” 

Strange slowly put his own arms around Peter. 

Peter’s muscles began to relax. He melted into the embrace. 

Strange barely noticed when Peter began to cry, his heaving sobs muffled by Strange’s robes. Peter clutched its back and sobbed. 

“I’m here,” Strange repeated. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.” 

“I couldn’t have lost you _and_ Mr. Stark,” Peter’s muffled voice. 

He was just a kid, a kid in a world not meant for him. A hellscape. Strange looked down at the mop of brown hair that continued to shudder by his side. 

Strange had never wanted children, and looking down at Peter, he remembered why. It was so much responsibility to raise a child, and so much danger. Maybe that was one of the many reasons why he and Christine had broken up in the first place; on his own, Strange never would have chosen to be a parent. 

...But comforting Peter was not a choice that Strange could choose to avoid. Strange wouldn’t have been a parent by choice, but a voice in the back of his mind suggested that maybe if he had taken that leap, he could have been. 

“You won’t… you won’t lose _either_ of us. I… I promise.” 

Strange knew that he would not be able to keep that promise, but he had to try. 

Peter began slowly to stop crying. 

“You know, my real name's Stephen,” Strange said quietly. 

“Stephen’s your real name?” Peter asked, still sniffling. 

“Doctor Stephen Strange. The doctor part comes from my Ph.D.” 

“You’re an actual doctor?” Peter said, almost smiling. Then his face reddened. “Oh my gosh, I insulted your Ph.D.! I’m sorry, it’s not made up—” 

“Don’t worry. You’re not the first to make that mistake,” Strange said, laughing. The tension in the air dissolved. 

“No, I’m sorry; I know how hard it is to get a doctorate,” Peter said. “One day, I’m hoping to get one… probably in biochemistry.” 

“Maybe I can make you a letter of recommendation. I am, despite my fall from grace, still an excellent writer,” Strange casually said. “I still have a modicum of standing in the industry.” 

“Thank you for your offer!” Peter said, grinning. 

“That is, if we get out of here,” Strange said, his face returning to its normal seriousness. 

“...Right,” Peter said, his smile fading. Even so, the ghost of a grin still lingered in his face. “Where to next?” 

“I’m sensing a powerful presence in that direction,” Strange said, waving toward another identical part of the forest. 

“Do you really?” 

“No, but I have a feeling that it’s just as much of a long shot whatever direction we decide to go.” 

“Alright.” Peter started walking in that direction. Turning back, he said, smiling, “You coming?” 

Strange smiled and followed Peter’s lead.


	10. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter, just a heads up. I'm going to delete this in a couple of weeks when I start uploading again.

Hi! It's been a while!

Long story short: I thought school this year was going to be easy, but as it turns out, it is most certainly not. I've had little time to write or read in the past months because of my schoolwork; as a result, writing this fic has stalled. That being said, I'm going to start updating this fic again once I get on Christmas break in a couple of weeks :)

I still fully intend on finishing this story, but it's just going to take a little while longer. Thank you for your patience!


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